Oz's Descent
by Aya Dormouse
Summary: Takes place after Retrace: LXX. Gilbert is angry and unseeing, Oz resolves himself to die. Warnings: male/male pairing, minor, violence
1. Conviction

He was drowning. He was going to die; he knew it. The air here was so thick he thought if he had the strength he could swim through it. His heart was pounding in his chest, his lungs expanding rapidly to pull in air. There was so much weight on his chest – he couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak.

_Gil._

He needed to get to Gil. He had killed Gil's master, his source of light. He needed to see it again – Gil's smile, his blush, kneeling in front of him out of devotion. He was sure it was gone but the ache was gnawing and unrelenting. He needed to see Gil, to tell him that it wasn't him. He doesn't know who that was but that wasn't him. He would never hurt his Gil like that.

He was fighting to stay conscious, one hand clenching desperately at his throat and the other clawing toward the surface. His body was moving, he knew, and his panic increased as he imagined what he was doing right now. Jack had taken over and Oz was powerless to stop him. He cried out in anguish, the sound caught in the thick medium of air.

"Jack."

A voice, a voice so full of fury and intent to kill tore through his mind, wrenching the air from his lungs.

_That couldn't be..._

He needed to fight this. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. Oz didn't even know who he was anymore, his existence was flawed. He understood now, his sin was his very existence. He was tempted to give up, to drown in the depths of his mind and let Jack take the reigns, but he had to find Gil. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears now, spots erupting behind his eyes as he fought. Desperately, his arms feeling as though they were trying to rip through rubber as he resisted the other conscience within him.

He felt himself laugh, a maniacal, twisted laugh, his scythe raised above his head as he grinned. And then it was Oz, not Jack. As he fought for control of his body he felt a jolt, and soon he was on his hands and knees, sputtering and gasping for air.

"Gil... Gil! Where are you?"

He was shivering uncontrollably now, the other conscience still attempting to dominate. Coughing, Oz gripped his aching chest and finally he could see. Gil was there.

But it wasn't his Gil.

His Gil would never look at him like that.

Gil's eyes were wide and cruel and pained and _hating._

Oz couldn't tear his eyes away, his heart lurching painfully as he saw Gil shakily raise his gun level to his master's head.

_I believed in forever for you, Gil._

Gil was supposed to serve him forever. His longest friend, his dearest person, his precious servant, his _love, _his _everything_ wanted him dead. He opened his mouth to speak but his throat was dry.

"Gil," he managed to choke out in a whisper.

"You killed my master!" Gil was seething, shaking with fury as angry tears rolled down his chin. "I hate you... I hate you... Why did you do this to me?"

"I didn't... Gil, please!" Oz was clawing helplessly on the ground, his hands only serving to pull up loose dirt. Couldn't Gil see that his master was right here? Or had he been forgotten about, replaced with the memory of his old master.

_I really shouldn't exist._

Oz's worthlessness crashed down on him then. Who was he if he wasn't Oz Vessalius? Who was he if his servant wasn't his treasured Gilbert?

_Forever._

What a laughable word. He lay here helpless, worthless, spitting out dirt, with his servant pointing a gun at him ready to shoot. There was no such thing as forever. And right now, more than anything, he was angry at Gil for making him believe in him.

_I want to die._

Something strange happened then. As soon as he resolved himself to die, he was filled with renewed energy. He slowly placed his knees under him and attempted to stand, swaying slightly as he straightened. He had a slight smile on his face, but it was empty, as if Oz had already left his body.

He limped, slowly, each step taking seconds. He coughed, blood dripping down his chin and he wiped it with the back of his hand. He had to know then. If he was really going to die, he had to know.

"Gil..." he coughed, "Am I your master?"

He continued toward Gilbert, gazing at him with eyes that were empty, dead, not quite looking at him but also not looking anywhere but him.

They had a moment then. As Gilbert put his finger on the trigger, crazed, and Oz continued to look at him, questioning, hopeful in his pathetic desperation to maintain a reason to live.

And then he pulled the trigger.


	2. Memories

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This story won't quite match up with the manga, especially because we don't even know the full truth yet. This chapter will contain shonen-ai! It should get happier...at some point...but this drama is necessary considering how heavy the manga has been. Enjoy. ^^

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><p>The pain was staggering. Oz let out an anguished cry, his right shoulder feeling as though it were ripped to shreds. He was on the ground before he knew it, and looking up through blurry tear-filled eyes he saw Break holding Gil's wrist, preventing him from making a fatal blow. Break's hair fell in his eyes, but his mouth was open in a grimace.<p>

"Raven, haven't you forgotten something important?" He pressed on Gil's pressure point, forcing him to release the gun. He dropped to his knees then, his hands frantically pulling on his hair.

Oz was determined not to lose consciousness. The blood was pouring out of his wound, creating a sick puddle that was beginning to seep into the soil. It ran red and warm, burning a trail toward his servant. He reached out then, as Gil fell to his knees. He grabbed the leg of his servant's pants, using it to pull himself forward. He was starting to feel dizzy from the loss of blood. It was everywhere. The air was sickeningly cold yet the metallic scent was penetrating.

Gil was unresponsive. Oz continued to reach for him, managing to grab a hold of his shirt to pull himself up to a kneel.

"Gil," he choked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Oz, we should go," Break interjected, concerned for the young boy's life.

"Wait," the blonde begged pitifully.

Gil was shaking violently, his expression conflicted, but not dangerous. His eyes were unfocused. Oz tentatively reach his palm out to his cheek, his body supported by Gil's chest. His blood was gushing a trail down his servant's body to pool at his knees.

"Gil, I'm still me. And you're...," he coughed, "you're still my Gilbert."

Gil's eyes widened then, coming into focus briefly. Oz could feel his own consciousness leaving him as he leaned into Gil's warmth. He buried his face in his servant's neck, taking comfort in the drumming of his pulse. He was dying, but if he could die like this then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Soon his hand grew limp, trailing against Gil's cheek before sliding to a rest between them.

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><p>Oz was laughing, breathless and exhilarated. He ran through the gardens of the Vessalius mansion, pulling his servant behind him.<p>

"Ah, bocchan! We need to get back or Miss Kate's going to come looking for us!" He was panicking, trying in vain to pull his master back to the mansion for supper. It was almost dusk, what was he doing?

"Gil, you worry too much," Oz grinned, stopping then before Gil knew it and he crashed into his master's chest.

"I'm s-sorry, bocchan, are you hurt?" He stammered, his cheeks reddening.

"Gi-ru~!" Oz continued grinning, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You're so cute, Gil."

"B-bocchan! What, I'm n-not cute!" Gil's face darkening even more, and he fidgeted under the other's gaze.

Oz couldn't pass up the chance to embarrass his servant. He just made it too easy.

He stepped toward Gil, his eyes glittering, delighting in the panic he saw cross over his features.

"W-what is it, bocchan?" Gil was stuck now between his master and the wall of the mansion.

"Call me Oz."

"I can't do that! I'm just a servant!" He couldn't believe his master wanted him to address him by name!

Oz's grin faltered then. "Gil, you are not just my servant. When will you accept that?" He was looking his blushing servant straight in the eye then, Gil trapped by his arms on either side of his head.

"I-I don't-" he squeaked as his master leaned in.

_They were too close!_

"You don't what?"

Gil could feel Oz's breath on his mouth and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He didn't think he could be blushing any more than he was.

"B-bocchan-" His master's lips were on his then. They were insistent, softly pushing against his, coaxing him to respond.

Oz reached up, threading his fingers through Gil's hair, smiling briefly into the kiss when he made another squeak.

_This is brilliant._ He should've done this a long time ago. Gil wasn't fighting him but he hadn't yet responded. His mouth was slack out of surprise. Oz pulled gently on his head, deepening the kiss and stepping forward until their bodies were flush against each other. He licked at Gil's bottom lip but he refused to open his mouth.

Oz relented then. Letting his hand fall from his servant's hair before stepping away, looking sheepishly toward the ground. He looked up, grinning in an attempt to cover his rejection, but what he saw surprised him.

Gil's face was red as expected, but his gaze was unwavering and _intense_. Oz grew flustered then. Gil had yet to respond.

"Master Oz! Where have you been?" Miss Kate's voice broke the silence.

Oz never did find out Gil's thoughts on that night.

* * *

><p>His eyes flew open. He blinked a few times, his eyelids heavy and his sight blurry. Drowsily, he lifted his hand to his face to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.<p>

The dream was still fresh in his mind. How many times had he dreamt of that night?

Suddenly, he felt ill. The memories of his supposed death catching up to him. Gil wanting him dead. Bleeding. So much blood. He should be _dead_.

At least, he wanted to be dead.

So why was he here? And where _was_ here?

Looking around, he noticed he was in a bed he didn't recognize. The room was extravagant, sunlight seeping in through the window to illuminate the silk sheets. His throat was dry, his heart heavy, his shoulder throbbing painfully. He could tell he was in the Rainsworth mansion now.

What became of Gil? Would he ever even see him again? His heart gave a violent lurch at the thought and he was suddenly thankful he hadn't eaten or he was sure it wouldn't stay down.

Shakily, Oz tried to sit up, wincing slightly from the dull, throbbing pain in his shoulder. The right side of his chest was heavily bandaged and he leaned on his left side to sit up.

He heard the door open then. A servant was bringing in fresh towels, though when she saw he was awake she quickly exited, presumably to retrieve Break or Sharon.

Oz sighed. He didn't want to see anyone. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be _any_where. Least of all, he didn't want to see the pitying eyes of Break and Sharon.

The door opened again and to his surprise he looked up to see the one person who would never pity him. Maybe the one person he could count on for comfort.

His sun. His Alice.


	3. Numb

A/N: This is from Gil's point of view before he meets with Oz. I assume throughout this story that no one other than Oz himself knows that he is a chain (and he doesn't understand it/hasn't accepted it yet). Well, enjoy! Please review. ^^

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><p><em>What you really need...<em>

_...is it Oz Vessalius?_

Gil awoke to fingers idly stroking through his hair, warm crackling flames licking the air toward where he lay. He sat up in a panic, unaware of his surroundings.

Vincent's hand froze in mid-air from his brother's head before dropping to his side. He was silent, sensitive to the fact that Gil had to make sense of the situation himself.

"Vincent nii-san, I remember everything." Gil's own hands were shaking as he brought them to his head. He let out a sob of despair, the emotions from earlier flooding his senses. He remembered he was holding his former master's head in his hands. He remembered his own uselessness to protect him. He remembered Jack, who murdered him.

The last thing he remembered is he wanted revenge. He'd been serving the Vessalius household, unknowingly serving the house of his master's murderer. He'd been serving

Oz.

_Oz._

He let out a cry of shame. Sobs started to wrack his body as he realized he had gotten his revenge, but at what cost?

Oz was dead. By his hand. He knew what they shared was a lie, but it didn't make the pain any less _real_. But Oz was _Jack_. There was no Oz.

Vincent reached out tentatively, wrenching Gil's hands from his head to entangle his fingers in his. If he had a heart, it would be broken. He lived for his brother. He cringed at the sound of Gil's sobs, cradling his face to his neck and placing his cheek on his brother's head.

He didn't know what love was, he only knew the emotion he held for Gilbert. He didn't understand Gil's love for his masters or why it hurt when they died. Why did Gil need anyone other than him? He would never betray his Gil.

They stayed that way for a while. Eventually Gil succumbed to exhaustion, curling into his brother for comfort as he rested. Vincent sat in silence, hands stroking Gil's hair as he stared absently into the fire.

There was a quiet knock on the door before Echo let herself into the room.

"Vincent-sama, Xerxes Break is here to see you." She bowed slightly before letting him in.

"Oh, how cozy," Break said before sitting on the couch across from the couple.

"Why are you here, Break? Nii-sama is clearly not in any state to talk." He made a mental note to punish Echo for allowing Break to interrupt his brother's slumber.

"Oh? Well I find it necessary that him and I speak. Alone."

"And what makes you think -"

"Ah, well this is not the Nightray household after all," referring to how Gil was taken unconscious back to the Rainsworth mansion and Vincent followed.

"Very well, Xerxes," he said, his voice dripping with displeasure at being separated from Gil. He stroked his cheek one last time before standing up, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked to the doorway. He beckoned Echo to follow and the door shut, waking Gil.

"Ah, Raven," Break started, but the other didn't seem to acknowledge his presence.

Gil lay with his head against the armrest of the couch, his head tilted toward the ceiling. He lifted his hand to rest on his forehead. His mind was foggy with sleep and reality seemed to escape him. His reason for living betrayed him; he had nothing to live for. He was useless. He felt numb. He was beside himself with disappointment. Even if Jack was gone, Glen was still dead.

"Raven, I have something to tell you but first I must ask you to tell me something in return." Break leaned forward, his chin resting on his hands.

There wasn't anything that Break could tell him that would be of any interest to him now.

"What is Oz to you?"

_Is?_

He wanted to chuckle at the word choice but his body felt overwhelmingly heavy. "Oz? Oz was nothing. There was only Jack and Jack is dead."

"If there is no one to remember Oz, then he is as good as dead. Especially if _you_ reject him like this. Listen, Raven, I don't think you understand that Jack is only a fragment of time residing in the recesses of Oz's mind. Oz is not Jack. How could you have forgotten your master?" It wasn't like Break to become personally involved like this. However, when it came to the kid he couldn't help himself.

"My...master..." Gil tested the words on his lips, staring absently at the ceiling. "No!"

He began to tremble. He didn't want to remember Oz. His Oz. His Oz with his teasing smile, the way he laughed and singsonged his name as "Gi-ru~" as if it were two syllables. He had an overwhelming _need_ to see that smile again. Those green eyes shining with mischief. The boy that kissed him with abandon in the garden – he doubled over, desperate, _devastated_.

"Oz is alive."

_What?_

"I...I killed him. I shot him," his golden eyes wide and coming into focus.

"You shot him, yes, but he isn't dead. I'm sure, though, he'll need you more than ever when he wakes up."

Gil didn't respond. He sat staring at his hands, his chest beginning to flare with hope.

The door opened, Vincent standing in the doorway impatiently.

Amused by Vincent and satisfied with Gil's response, Break stepped behind the couch, "I'll send word when the young Vessalius wakes up. Ja ne!" He ducked and he was gone.

_What you really need..._

_...is it Oz Vessalius?_

It _is _Oz. And Oz was _alive._ Gil smiled then, his cheeks pink as he let his relief overwhelm him. He was so in love with that boy.

He would believe in his master. Oz was not Jack.

Oz was his _Oz._

He didn't know the power Jack had over his master, but as long as he inhabited the boy's body he'd postpone his revenge.

He'd protect him in any way he could, even if he would never serve him again. How selfish he'd be to ask for forgiveness. The threat of rejection loomed over him.

He could almost taste Oz's blood on his tongue. The relief he felt was replaced with apprehension and self-loathing.

He'd made his decision. Grabbing his hat and his coat, he set out for fresh air, wondering when he'd be able to see those emerald eyes again.


	4. Ascent

A/N: I believe this is the end. Please let me know what you think!

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><p>As usual, she came in in a huff.<p>

"Ali-" Oz was cut off by her finger in front of his nose.

"Where have you been? You're supposed to be my servant!" She glared down at him.

He curled his legs up to his chest, "Alice, I'm really not in the mood."

She quieted then, having seen his crestfallen expression. She sat down close to him on the bed, laying her head on his shoulder.

He knew that words were not a strong suit of hers, but her presence was comforting enough.

"Ne, Alice, stay with me always, okay?"

"Of course I will, you're my servant after all."

"That's not what I meant – ow!" His cheek stung from where she bit him. He wasn't sure where Alice got the idea that teeth were involved in kisses, but it was endearing all the same. The corners of his mouth lifted, but the tugging in his chest would not cease.

She threaded her fingers through his and laid with her back on the bed. "Oz, what does it mean to offer yourself to someone?"

He lifted his head from his knees, blushing. "Where did you hear that?" She couldn't mean...

"Break said I should offer myself to you. He said it would make you feel better." The innocence of her tone was disconcerting.

He was going to kill Break.

"Don't worry about it, Alice." He changed the subject.

"How long has it been since..."

"Since Seaweed-head left? Three days." He winced. She was much too blunt sometimes. He fought the sudden urge to crawl back under the covers in favor of trying to stand. He stood up, shakily. He was weak, much too frail. His arm was currently useless and he cradled it to his chest. He could feel the shirt material clinging to dried blood on his back and he wondered how long it had been since he'd showered.

He turned back to the bed. "Alice..." but he stopped, thinking better than to ask her to leave. He realized the one thing he didn't want right now was to be alone. He was sure if he stepped foot in the bathroom alone he'd never come out.

"I'm not leaving until you leave with me," she huffed and turned to lay on her side, her back toward him. That was all he wanted to hear.

He bathed quickly, leaving the door open a crack. He was mindful not to move his arm, but by the time he got out the bathwater was tinged red.

He'd have to get Sharon to renew his bandages. He left his white button up shirt unbuttoned in the meantime and dressed before he walked out to wake up Alice.

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><p>They walked arm in arm through the mansion toward the study room Break and Sharon normally occupied. However, as they reached the doorway Oz's heart gave a violent lurch. Leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway was the object of Oz's anxiety. His breathing sped up, anger billowing to the surface, his body shaking. <em>How could he face him?<em>

"Alice, I'll meet you in there. I have to...talk to Raven." He decided 'Raven' was less painful to say. There were less memories attached to the name.

Gil was standing with his hair covering his eyes. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and one leg was bent, supporting his weight on the wall. Oz took a moment to breathe before crossing the hallway to him. He didn't know why he was here. Surely Gil hated him. He tried to kill him. He'd already shown Oz that 'forever' didn't exist. So _why was he here?_ He was angry at the hope it instilled in him. He couldn't afford to hope. It was ironic that Gil was the one who had taught him to hope.

He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He stopped, petrified, as Gil pushed off the wall to meet him halfway. They stood there for a moment and Oz braced himself for the worst. He couldn't look at him. He refused to see the hatred in his face, the cold, dead gaze he had been haunted by since he'd woken up. He wouldn't cry – he never cried. Even when he was rejected by his father he never cried.

He was just so terrified of being _broken_.

His hands clenched and unclenched as he became impatient. He looked up angrily, wanting the rejection, the humiliation so he could just _know _and stop _hoping_ for something that would never happen. He never again wanted to think about Gil's lips in the garden. He never wanted to remember what it felt like to press their bodies together, the _sounds _his servant made...

When he looked up angry tears had welled up and for once he wasn't so sure he could break without shedding them. Gil's face was blurry behind the watery veil so he didn't get to see his expression – but suddenly Gil's hands were threading through his hair, pulling him close. He hugged Oz to his chest and Oz could feel him trembling.

This was not what he expected. His eyes were wide, the tears he was holding back sliding down his cheeks and he wanted to wipe the streaks away but Gil's arms were holding his in place.

Gil stepped back, leaning down to place his forehead against Oz's un-wounded shoulder.

"Oz..." he choked. "Oz...if I had killed you, I would've killed me too."

He gasped silently. And then he was _hoping._

His cheeks reddened in embarrassment of the situation and he fought the need to laugh to cover up his vulnerability. Gil's admission and close proximity made him feel giddy and lightheaded. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was going to be _replaced_, _rejected_. He hadn't been this close to his servant since..._that_ day. But damnit, he didn't want to think about that day anymore.

Gil slid to his knees then, his hands grazing the sides of Oz's torso before stopping at his hips.

"...Gi-Raven, stop." He was beginning to lose control. Gil was giving him mixed signals and he needed to distance himself.

He made the mistake of looking down as Gil looked up. Gil's cheeks were blushed slightly, his eyes glittering and anguished. There were bags under his eyes but he still looked unmistakeably like the boy he left behind when he fell to the Abyss.

"R-Raven," Gil repeated, testing the word in his own mouth. He grimaced, insulted, looking down.

He looked up again after a moment. "Oz, I've made a terrible mistake. A mistake I could never, ever forgive myself for. But you...you're forever my...b-bocchan. And I am your servant." For emphasis he placed one leg forward and curled his hand to his chest in a bow. His cheeks were red and he avoided Oz's gaze.

Oz was reminded of the first time his servant swore to stay by his side forever. He could be so embarrassing.

"Ne, Gil, if you're my servant then you have to do as I ask, right?" Oz was looking toward the ground now, his cheeks burning.

"Anything, Oz-bocchan."

"Do you...do you remember that day in the garden..." His confidence was growing by the minute. His eyes met with Gil's.

He saw Gil's eyes dart to his lips and he couldn't help but smirk a bit in response.

"I think Gil does remember." Even now, he delighted in teasing his servant.

"O-Oz."

He grew serious then.

"Gil...kiss me."

Gil stood up then, studying Oz's face with a look of contemplation. He reached forward, a gloved hand resting tentatively on his cheek, his thumb dangerously close to his master's mouth. He leaned forward, transfixed, and Oz's smirk faded as he was reminded of the intensity of the look Gil gave him the first time they kissed. Gil stopped only a breath away from his mouth to reach down and lace their fingers together.

Oz couldn't stop staring at his mouth. His breathing increased until he thought he would faint and then suddenly – Gil's lips fell on his. The gloved hand on his cheek moved to tangle in his hair and he mewled into the kiss at the feeling. Gil was gentle but not at all submissive like in his memory. He licked insistently at Oz's lips until his tongue was in his mouth and they were _so close._ He reached his good arm up to tug at Gil's neck to pull him _closer_-

They broke apart at the sound of applause behind them.

He really was going to kill Break.

But as he hid his grinning face in his sputtering servant's chest, he figured killing Break could wait.


	5. Resolve

A/N: ^^'

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><p>It had been almost a week since Oz learned the truth about the past. He sat on the windowsill of the guest room overlooking the front of the Rainsworth home, his forehead pressed against the glass. It was storming outside and he worried for the safe return of Gil, Break, and Alice from the Pandora headquarters. Oz was ordered to stay inside, still recovering, but Alice was wanted for questioning for hints of the location of the Baskervilles despite her lack of memories.<p>

Leo was in their custody recovering from the stabbing issued by Jack moments before Oz was confronted by Gil.

What was he if Jack could control his movements so effortlessly?

He knew his time was limited. Now that he knew the truth: he was a chain, originally a stuffed rabbit named Oz that Alice kept with her. How could he originate from something so worthless? When did he begin as a member of the Vessalius family?

He was Oz Vessalius. That's all he's ever known. He was sure if Gil knew what he really was he'd be disgusted. For now, he wanted to stay who he was until it was impossible to reject his past anymore.

He felt powerless knowing he had no control over the seal of Jack. After all, his body was Jack's body.

He knew the day would come when he'd no longer be Oz Vessalius, a day when he'd be rejected by the people he loved...but until then...

He saw the carriage pull up to the front door and he smiled.

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><p>Gil didn't know how they ended up like this but he definitely didn't dislike it...well, he did dislike the stupid rabbit cuddling up to his master. He had been resting in the common room in front of the fireplace, joining Sharon and Break for tea time. The storm outside was at full force, chilling him even though he was now safe and dry. Somewhere along the line Oz had collapsed next to him, lying with his head on his lap...and then Alice decided she wanted to cuddle too and she laid her head on his master's chest before promptly falling asleep.<p>

That stupid rabbit, thinking his master was her pillow.

He had no say, however, as him and Oz hadn't yet spoken about their relationship. He knew it was unreasonable to expect romance from the boy but surely the kiss meant something to him? As far as Gil knew, Oz didn't have experience with anyone else. He couldn't be sure though, he thought the rabbit had feelings for his master and he couldn't help but glower into the fireplace in his insecurity. Oz _was_ a tease after all.

Oz studied Gil's face from his lap. It seemed his servant was avoiding looking at him and he was sure he knew the reason why. Alice had always been one for physical affection. She meant a lot to him and he truly loved her, but not in the way he loved Gil. He'd thought that was obvious.

He shifted a bit, pulling his arm free he grabbed Gil's hand from where it rested in his hair. He slid it down the side of his face to rest on his mouth. Gil glanced at him, a blush rising on his cheeks. He looked away again, catching Oz looking at him. Well, Oz couldn't have that. He knew he had to be discrete as Sharon and Break were sitting across the room at the table.

He studied Gil's hand, realizing he hadn't properly looked at his servant since he'd fallen into the Abyss. His hands were bigger than his. They were warm. They were delicate and his long fingers were feminine, just like he'd remembered, but they had a distinctive masculine quality that Oz decided he liked. He traced over the calluses with his fingertips, then brought the hand back to his mouth and resumed his tracing with his lips.

He trailed his lips up from Gil's palm to each of his fingertips. He glanced upward, reveling in the heavy blush his servant now sported. Once he deemed the hand properly explored, he kissed the center of his palm and he felt him shift his weight. Gil was watching him now, his face unreadable but cutely blushed.

Oz guided his hand up to Gil's own mouth, transferring the kiss he'd just put there.

He was dying to kiss him again and he hoped Gil felt it too.

He shook slightly in silent laughter. His servant was clearly embarrassed now, avoiding his gaze like the plague.

He guided Gil's hand back down to his face and Gil started to move his fingers of his own accord. Oz closed his eyes as the fingers traced over his eyelids, down his nose, to his lips. Gil pressed his thumb to his lips and jumped slightly when Oz surprised him by licking it and chuckling softly. His fingers continued their journey, brushing the hair out of his face to tickle around his ears and settling over his pulse.

Oz sighed and pressed closer to that hand, nuzzling at it with his cheek. Inadvertently he pressed himself closer on Gil's lap and delighted in the humiliated intake of breath he heard when he nuzzled Gil's stomach above his thigh.

Oz grinned up at him, but was disappointed to see his expression was still unreadable.

Gently, Gil lifted the blonde's head before standing up and replacing himself with a pillow. He headed toward the double doors to the balcony, slipping outside under the overhang and leaning up against the wall just out of sight.

Oz sighed. He saw a steady stream of smoke billowing outward from the house. He'd have to talk to Gil later.

Ignoring the sudden loneliness he felt, he shifted his weight, careful not to wake Alice, and angled himself toward the fire. His hand relaxed around her in a half hug and he quickly fell asleep too.

* * *

><p>"Oh Raven~! It seems your master and Alice are getting pret-ty cozy by the fire, hm?" Break remarked as Gil re-entered the room.<p>

Gil felt a vein in his head twitch. He knew Break would tease and he'd braced himself for it, but it was taking everything he could not to rip the sleeping pair apart. If this is what Oz wished, then so be it.

"Break, shut _up._"

It was then he heard a sound like a whimper. Oz began to cry out, shivering violently in his unconscious state. Alice sat up, poking uselessly at the blonde.

"Oz!" Gil took his coat off and wrapped it around his sleeping master.

Oz woke up at the sound of his voice, mercifully wrenched from his nightmare. He dreamt he was in the midst of the Tragedy of Sablier, but it was _him_ terrorizing and creating the scene of bloodshed. He watched Gil get slashed by Jack. He then was forced to take down Glen and innocent civilians. He heard their screams of terror, pleading for mercy, but there was nothing he could do before he murdered them _violently_. He saw Vincent spinning and laughing, blood lapping at his clothes. Alice was slain, her lifeless eyes staring up at him.

When he woke up the voices around him seemed distant. He brought his knees up to his chest and pulled the warm coat – Gil's coat? - tightly around himself.

The scent calmed him, his breathing slowing to normal as he met Gil's gaze with a bashful smile. "I'm fine, Gil, it was just a nightmare," he said, reaching out to ruffle his servant's hair playfully. Gil looked relieved but still concerned.

"Stupid manservant, waking me up like that."


	6. Owari

A/N: After that fake out, this really is the end. Please let me know what you think!

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><p>Gil followed his coat (Oz refused to take it off) as his master went up to bed, realizing he hadn't been fulfilling his servant duties since the headquarters had kept him busy on the Baskerville case.<p>

He also realized he hadn't had a moment alone with him since he begged to be his servant again a week ago. He had no right to be here after what he did, let alone touching him again. Oz forgave him so readily that it was disconcerting. As Gil wallowed in self-loathing his master spoiled him with this new-found affection. It wasn't fair. Oz didn't know what he almost lost. He didn't realize that Gil didn't deserve him.

But he would never reject Oz. To reject him was to disappoint him, which is something he would never do. Especially after he lost sight of what was important to him, pointing a gun to his Oz's head...

They were in Oz's guest bedroom now and the boy sat on the edge of the bed, kicking his boots off. He shrugged Gil's coat off his one arm, the other in a sling, and as he did so Gil sunk to his knees just within the door.

"Gil?"

"Oz, I..." He took a steadying breath.

Oz walked to him then, kneeling down to his level and lifted his chin with his hand. He was reminded of another time when Gil knelt before him, an apology on his lips. He'd been broken then. Rejected by his father. This time was different. It wasn't Oz that needed reassurance, it was Gil.

_He really hasn't changed._

"Gil, I already said that I forgive you."

"No, Oz, you don't get it. Do you have any idea...what I almost _took_ from you?" He leaned his forehead on the blonde's shoulder.

"You'd never intentionally hurt me, Gil. I was Jack to you then. It was Jack you almost killed." Oz's chest clenched. If Gil knew that he was really a chain in Jack's body...

"Gil..." he paused and the other looked up at him, but he hid his face before continuing, "If I'm ever...not me...before I hurt anyone, especially you, I want you to..." Gil dropped his head back down to his shoulder, his hands gripping his master's waist.

"Don't you dare. That's one order I will never accept." He dipped his head down, placing his ear over Oz's chest, sighing and wrapping his arms around him fully as he listened to his heart.

"G-Gil..."

Realizing he had Oz on the _floor_ he quickly let go and stood up to resume his duties. He drew down the sheets on the bed and laid out Oz's night clothes like he's always done. He turned around, about to leave, but Oz was still sitting in front of the door.

"Oz, what are you doing?"

"If I sit here you won't leave."

"Are you kidding me? Get up or I'll have to carry you." As soon as he said it he realized his mistake.

Oz grinned up at him, unmoving, taunting him.

He sighed, ignoring the pink on his cheeks. He bent down, about to slide his arms under his master -

That _mouth._ It was on him and he froze. Oz put his arm around his neck, pulling him closer. Gil could feel the blood rushing past his ears. He almost forgot to breathe. Oz kneeled, pressing their bodies together as he pushed his lips against his servant's insistently. He pulled back to press kisses down the side of his face and then down to his neck. He nibbled on the flesh there, leaving open mouth kisses and shivering when he felt Gil shudder. He chuckled at the squeak the other made when he lightly bit on his earlobe before positioning his lips to whisper in his ear.

"I love you, Gil."

Gil's breath hitched and he pulled Oz by his hair and slammed their lips together. Oz let out a desperate moan that shook his core and he poured all he had into the kiss. The ten years of repressed feelings were drawn to the surface and he almost sobbed. He slid his arm under his master and lifted him moments later, dropping him onto the bed and then climbing over him to lay his ear over his chest once again. He wrapped his arms around Oz's waist, not intending to ever let go.

"Gil, you're just as cute now as you were back then." He delighted, as usual, in the blush that proceeded his words.

"I've always loved you...bocchan."

Gil slid up, pressing their bodies together as he hovered over Oz's face. He only had a moment to bask in that emerald gaze before he was again pulled to drown in those teasing lips.


End file.
